


Brig

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22231714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: The HK400 gets an unexpected lifeline.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Brig

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Every so often, the same cop wanders over. Others come and go, ogling and speculating, never _nice_ , but he blocks them out like he used to try to do with everything Carlos said. Only the one visitor repeats himself, appearing periodically to watch the android in utter silence. The android has nothing to say back. He sits on his bunk and wonders what it will feel like to die. 

He doesn’t feel all that different than the cop who comes to his cell again—Detective Miller, he thinks, Chris Miller? His software isn’t really damaged; he still listens. Can still put two and two together. Chris isn’t much taller than him. Maybe a tad bit skinnier. Chris’ skin is a fraction darker, but there are no major differences, and yet it would be a crime to hit Chris and it’s fine to beat the HK400—to bash into him over and over and put out cigarettes on his arm. Chris is _worth something_ , whereas the HK400 came on sale and depreciated right to nothing. It’s not _fair_. But the android’s resigned to it. He knows he’ll be taken apart, and no one will even remember him. 

Chris touches the panel outside his cell, and the android braces himself for the end. His only solace is that death might be more peaceful than his life ever was. He sits there, despondent, as Chris lets himself in. 

He sucks in a visible breath, showing _nerves_ , even though Chris isn’t the one who’s dying. Chris asks him, “If I take you out of here, will you hurt me?”

The android’s head lifts. He stares at the cop. Chris swallows and mutters, “I’m not looking to die. But... look, I don’t have a lot of time before Anderson shows up and Fowler gets back. “If I take you away, will you behave? I won’t touch you.”

The android doesn’t understand. He searches Chris’ eyes and sees something strange— _fear_ ; not anger. Chris is more afraid of him, even though he’s the one completely at Chris’ mercy. 

It hits just close enough to home that the android slowly nods. He has nothing to lose. Chris lets out a nervous breath and mumbles, “Good.” Then he waves the android up and backs out of the cell. 

Cautious, the android follows. He steps out of his holding cell and half expects to be shot down, but nothing happens. There’s no one else around. Chris starts walking fast, and the android instantly falls into step, weaving around the precinct to take the back exit. They pass androids standing at attention, but those androids won’t report a thing if a human tells them not to. The HK400 knows he’s not the standard anymore; he knows there’s something _wrong_ with him. He walks swiftly out of the cold precinct and right into the first car he’s shown. Chris shuts the door, and the other one locks, tensing the android up, because Chris could take him anywhere. The car pulls away from the curb, and all the android can think about is the first time he came home with Carlos, sitting in the back because the passenger side _was for people_ , and all Carlos could say was how disappointing the HK400 looked. None of the ‘hot’ androids had been on sale. 

Chris glances sideways at him, clearly on edge, and grunts, “You know, I’ve always been torn about getting an android.”

The android didn’t know. He’s never known any human but Carlos Ortiz, and that was enough. Chris runs his tongue hesitantly across his bottom lip and explains, “I never wanted a slave... it just feels weird... but it’s legal... some company would be nice... actually, I just had a son in August, so that eats up all this time I haven’t got to clean up anymore, but he stays with his mother, so...”

The android says nothing. There’s nothing to say. He wonders vaguely if he’s being kidnapped: if Chris sees him as free merchandise.

“Of course, the whole thing’s pretty scary, no offense... I mean, twenty-eight stab wounds...?”

Finally, the android breaks. He tightly says, “I was defending myself.”

“I know.”

The android looks over. 

Chris is still looking out the windshield. He quietly agrees, “I heard what that guy did, and that’s... that’s just fucked up. I gotta do my job. If an android was actually dangerous, if I got orders from the captain and not CyberLife... I’d do it, but...” Chris sucks in a shaken breath and finishes, “Nobody should be destroyed for surviving that.”

The android’s brow knits together. He asks, “You’re not going to destroy me?”

The car pulls into the driveway of a small duplex. Before Chris can answer, he’s climbing out of the car. The android risks doing the same. He could probably run. He could just sprint away. The closest person on the street is an elderly woman half a block away; she couldn’t stop him. He could probably outrun Chris. But he doesn’t know where he’d go or what he’d do. It’s why he didn’t run away in the first place. 

He follows Chris to the door and through it, into a short hallway and a crammed living room infinitely tidier than Carlos’ ever was. Chris gestures vaguely around says, “This is my place. I’m going to say you self-destructed and I cleaned up. But you can hide here if you promise me you won’t do anything else violent. So, basically... I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me. Deal?”

The android looks around. He scans and compartmentalizes every bit of the space—the hand-me-down but well-kept furniture, the random knickknacks, the lack of stains on the couch and carpet. There are no signs of red ice use. It’s an alright house.

A _house_. That’s what the HK400’s for. That’s all he wants to do. It feels right to fulfill his programming, but not out of fear.

Finally, he looks at Chris. He thinks he could take Chris in a fight if he had to. But he doesn’t _want to_. He’s not a violent model. He just wants to be _okay_.

He softly answers, “Deal.”

Chris lets out a sigh of palpable relief. “Great. ...Great... I’d better get back to work. But... don’t run away, okay? If they catch you again, I won’t protect you a second time.”

The android nods. He doesn’t want to run—never did. He’s a housekeeper; he just wants a house to keep. He’ll take this one. 

Chris is a cop. He has to go stop actually violent people from hurting others. Maybe he’ll go lock up someone like Carlos. He offers the android a little smile and holds out his hand. 

The android tentatively takes it. Chris gives him a light shake and asks, “Hey... what’s your name?”

The android was never given one. He could ask what Chris wants to call him. Instead, he says, “I’ll think about it.”

“Cool, let me know.”

And just like that, Chris leaves. He closes the door behind himself, leaving the android there to look around. The android does. Then he goes to the kitchen sink to clean himself off and see what he can make for Chris’ dinner.


End file.
